Fire and Fleet
by Twilight Athena
Summary: He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels. [Henry Wadsworth Longfellow] [Crossover with Neverwhere]


"I do not understand," It said in its completely sexless voice, argent grey eyes gazing softly into crystalline blue ones. "Why do you seek to oppose me? You out of all should understand what I am about to embark on, brother. Our punishments are not as far apart as you think."

Blue Eyes tilted his head. "It's not exactly a punishment," He replied in a slow, annunciated tone. "Unless, of course, that's what you consider field work to be. Most do, so I wouldn't hold it against you if you did."

A slight frown. "Please, do be serious..."

"I am."

Silver Eyes' shook his head, folding his hands together. "You are not as I remembered," It spoke quietly, almost mournfully.

Blue Eyes raised one perfect eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"Centuries on this rock have finally taken their toll on you," It responded with a musical sigh. "You have changed, brother; dallying with Man..." It paused, emulating distress. "It is almost as if you've become one of them."

"The humans?" Blue Eyes asked. "Some of them are quite pleasant once you get to know them. Really, they can show such remarkable initiative when they put their minds to it. Take the "internet" for example; it's quite a fascinating little—"

He trailed off when he noticed Sliver Eyes' suddenly blank expression. "You would have to take my word on it," He said, exasperated.

A moment of silence. Around the two, the candles started to flicker as if sensing the tension in the air around them.

"What of the other one?" Silver Eyes finally spoke. "I must admit, hearing of your alliance with that _creature_ was most disturbing." It spat the word "creature" out as if it were an exceedingly filthy word. Blue-Eyes felt his patience begin to wane.

"He has a name, you know," He said, looking down as he picked imaginary lint off of his vest. The testy tone in his voice was still quite noticeable, much to his dismay.

Silver Eyes smirked knowingly. "What does a snake need with a name?"

Blue Eyes did not look up, but rather continue to pluck at his vest. Despite his seemingly serene exterior, Silver-Eyes could feel the anger radiating off of the other like heat during a high fever.

"He may be a snake," Blue Eyes quietly replied with what appeared to be forced calmness. "But he's just as noble as any other angel with a valor that far exceeds our kind. He's my friend. And I'd gladly fight any battle for him."

With a faint grin, he held the medieval looking broadsword up to eye level, handling the weighty blade as if it were a toy. Silver Eyes resisted the urge to sneer at this little spectacle, instead choosing to go for a more sympathetic approach.

"Brother, this is not the wisest notion—"

"You say that as if you could harm me," Blue Eyes interrupted pleasantly.

For one instant, one fraction of a second, Silver Eyes' beautiful face darkened with a twisted sort of frenzied, insane rage; pure, unbridled fury with an intense desire to tear and rend any who dare cross it, be it friend or foe. To look upon such vicious rancor would make any mortal's blood run cold, so it was not surprising to see Blue Eyes half-heartedly glance at Silver Eyes, utterly impassive.

"Really, you act as if I should run back to Him with my tail between my legs," He drawled, holding the sword with one hand as he examined the nails of the free one. "A bit too late for that, I think. I've seen the Apocalypse, I've come face to face with War, Famine, Pollution, Death, and...well, I've been to Australia. Actually..." He thoughtfully wavered. "I would think _that_ little adventure was far more frightening than_ you_, Islington. Terrible place to visit, you see. Wouldn't recommend it at _all_."

Silver Eyes—Islington—seemed to collect itself, though the anger still lingered on its features. "It's not too late," It said gently. "We can do this, _together_. You can join me, fight for a worthy cause. A new home, brother. For _us._ Or..."

It seemed melancholy, a clever deception on its part.

"You could die," It said, flatly. "You could die alone in a world not meant for you, surrounded by a species created to replace you. Tell me...are they really worth fighting for? Worth every excruciating cluster of pain as your pretty wings are ripped off? Worth braving oblivion for?"

The other closed his eyes, smiling. "Oh yes," He said breathlessly. "Quite."

"Then I pity you, Aziraphale."

"It's quite alright," Blue Eyes—Aziraphale—politely dismissed. "I've no need for it. You understand, yes...?"

"No," Islington said, not even trying to contain its growing malice. "I don't."

"Ah, well..." Aziraphale cleared his throat, shifting his weight as he lifted the broadsword over his shoulder. "Shall we begin?"

A great gust of wind created by the beating of wings swept around the Great Hall, extinguishing all of the candles and setting the chamber into blackness. Nothing stirred, nothing spoke.

Somewhere in the dark, a flame erupted.


End file.
